Ridin' Solo (Sisters From Hell Book 1) Page 11

  Eventually the air cooled, and our breathing slowed down. Wyatt straightened, pulling me up gently and holding me upright against his chest. Long strands of hair stuck to my sweaty cheek. My brain swam in the aftershocks of pleasure, not yet panicking over what we’d done.

  “Still think ridin’ solo is better?” he whispered against my ear, his cock still inside me.

  Goose bumps racing down my flesh and muscles spasming around his cock were all the answer he needed to sport a cocky grin.

  14

  Wyatt

  * * *

  She had several strands of blonde hair that lay across her face while she slept. I’d already been awake for a while, staring at her peaceful expression and cataloging all the features I couldn’t stare at for too long at work for fear she or someone else would see my genuine feelings. Oakley would hate it if she knew I was watching her while she slept, which was why I planned to keep doing it.

  I didn’t move a muscle, scared she’d wake up and suddenly bolt, her brain having had time to toss around the possible outcomes to us sleeping together. I couldn’t believe it when she’d come over and told me she wanted the real thing. For a second there, I thought I was still dreaming. But then her hands were tugging on my hair and the pain woke that part of me I’d been stuffing down deep and ignoring.

  After I’d taken her roughly in the kitchen, I brought her back here to my room where we’d fallen into my bed and had sex again, this time softer and slower. She’d fallen asleep afterward, and selfishly, I didn’t want to move her. Normally, a girl sleeping over would freak me out, but all I felt this morning was awe.

  Oakley had a slight bump on the left side of her collarbone. I wondered if she’d broken it at some point. I’d never asked her about the thin white scar on the inside of her forearm. Or why she’d gotten those pistol tattoos when no one who knew her would suspect she had them. There was so much about the woman behind the uniform I wanted to know.

  She inhaled sharply and stirred, blinking her eyes open and then pausing. My heart paused too, wondering if now was the moment she’d start freaking out. My dick, however, remained hopeful we’d have a repeat performance of last night’s activities. Oakley’s head came up, and she met my gaze, her sky-blue eyes slightly puffy from sleep. The corners of her lips tilted up and I let out the breath I’d been holding.

  “Morning,” she croaked, her normally throaty voice even scratchier.

  I reached up and pushed those strands of hair behind her ear, absolutely loving the just-woken-up version of Oakley. She was softer, warmer, the kind of woman who could destroy your heart.

  “Good morning.”

  We both smiled at each other, the silence not exactly uncomfortable, but merely two people getting used to a new and deeper intimacy. I remembered something and leaned away to grab a box from the floor by my bed. When I rolled back, Oakley’s gaze flickered up to mine.

  “Were you staring at my ass, Waldo?” I teased her.

  Her cheeks went pink, and that was it. Something dropped out of the bottom of my chest. All the reserve I’d been working on when it came to Oakley simply left. I wanted her. Wanted her in my bed. Wanted her to be the first person I saw when I woke up every single morning. Wanted every intimate moment where she let her guard down. I wanted to tease the woman until she got so angry she pounced on me like last night.

  “What?” she asked, staring at me curiously as I just lay there looking at her.

  Get it together, Wyatt.

  “I forgot I got this for you. Accidentally sent it to my house instead of yours. Poppy hand delivered it and gave me a funny look.” I grimaced, remembering the way she’d eye-fucked me as she handed over the package and then glanced at Oakley’s house like she was starting to put two and two together.

  Oakley rolled her eyes and sat up, taking the comforter with her. “Another sex toy? I thought we settled that last night?”

  I sat up too, pulling down the comforter so it wasn’t smothering me. Oakley tugged it back up. Leave it to Oakley to start a bedsheet fight the morning after. I chuckled and let her keep it up. Eventually I’d get a peek at those perfect breasts again. Now that I’d gotten a taste, I’d burn down buildings to see them again.

  “Can never have too many toys. And besides, you can use a toy with someone, you know.”

  Her eyes danced, and she hurried to open the box. She pulled out the little bullet vibrator and threw the box on the ground.

  “We could use it right now…just for example…”

  My statement trailed off at the gleam in her eye as she turned my way. Oakley lifted a leg and climbed on top of me, the comforter finally falling down and exposing the flesh I’d come to idolize. She clicked on the vibrator and put it right between her legs. The confident move stunned me speechless. Oakley played out the scenario I’d busted in on several months ago and had played repeatedly in my imagination.

  But this time, she was straddling me, giving me a front-row seat to the greatest show on earth. One tiny shift and I could be inside her.

  “Better hurry or I’ll reach the end solo,” she whispered, eyes squeezed shut, already chasing her pleasure.

  She didn’t have to tell me twice. I flailed my arm around the side of the bed to grab a condom from the cardboard box nightstand—I really needed to unpack one of these days—and slid it on, all the while watching Oakley bite her lip and move that vibrator up and around and back down.

  I grabbed her hips, lifted her, and let her slide down, impaled on my length. Her thighs quivered and her hand stilled for a moment. Her eyes flew open, a breathy moan escaping her mouth.

  “That’s right, sweetheart. Not solo now, are you?”

  She shook her head, her mouth falling open as we began to move in rhythm. One hand came down to support herself on my shoulder, her tits bouncing each time our bodies came together. Her hair swung free and the sight of it out of that fucking bun made the need bubble up faster. Fuck, she was tight and soft and warm and perfect. I could explode any second, but not before I made her feel better than any sex toy ever could.

  “Too good,” she muttered, dropping her forehead to my chest.

  I needed her focused on me, not the toy, so I smacked her ass, the sound echoing in my almost empty room and making me surge up into her harder. Her head popped up and her eyes held a fire behind the hazy desire.

  “Stay with me. Not solo, remember?” I gritted out between my teeth.

  She growled but held my gaze, punishing me by pulling up until just the tip of me was still in her. I trailed a hand up her torso and cupped her breast, strumming her nipple and watching her breathing hitch. She slammed down hard and we both groaned on impact.

  Her eyes went wide and then squeezed shut, her pussy doing the same, strangling my cock until one more grind upward had my balls tightening, leaving me to tumble after her. Her head dropped again, her lips kissing across my chest as she mumbled something I couldn’t make out. The sound of the vibrator clicked off as her tremors eased. My hamstrings felt like they had little knives digging into them, but I didn’t care. I’d stretch them later. Right now, I just wanted to soak in Oakley.

  Flipping us over, I took care to stay inside of her. She smiled up at me as I swiped the hair from her face.

  “I say we stay like this all day.” I kissed her quick, trying to act casual despite a growing sense of desperation to keep this new dynamic between us going. I had a feeling that if we stepped outside the door, the magic would disappear and I’d be back to having to pretend I didn’t have feelings for Oakley.

  Her eyes changed, an apology in her expression before her words confirmed it. “I wish I could, but I have a lunch date with Amelia.”

  I smiled like my insides weren’t throwing a tantrum. “Okay.” I kissed her again and pulled out, rolling off her so she could go.

  We both got up, and I took care of the condom in the bathroom attached to my bedroom. When I turned back around, Oakley stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, looking
like a badass woman from the Wild West with those pistol tattoos. A naked version which I liked even better.

  “You know, I do have time for a shower though. Not solo.” She raised her eyebrows.

  Fuck, yes. “I’ll get the water going.”

  Who knew the tightly controlled captain would be a cauldron of passion once you took the lid off?

  Oakley put her coffee cup down and shot me a look that had me uneasy. While I was enjoying my time with her immensely, there was a part of me just waiting for the other shoe to drop. I think I just heard it hit the floor.

  “We have to say something to Sheriff Locke.” Her gaze hit the countertop between us. “My conscience won’t let me not say something.”

  Fuck. There was reality slapping me in the face like I knew it would.

  I took a sip of coffee to give myself time to think. Time to formulate the best course of action. Oakley’s thumbnail tapped against her mug, the only sign she felt nervous.

  “Can you wait? Just a few days. There are a few things I need to clear up first.” Okay, there were a lot of things I needed to clear up first, but she didn’t need to know all of it.

  She gripped the mug and took another sip, standing up and heading toward the sink. The mug went in the sink as she gazed out at my backyard, the same forest she probably saw from her own kitchen window.

  “A few days, Wyatt.” She spun and faced me, her spine stiff. “If you don’t hurry, I will tell him myself.”

  I walked over, gently placing my hands on the waist of her jean shorts. Such a small package, yet she held so much courage. I dipped my head so she could see the truth in my eyes. “I promise you we’ll come clean.”

  Her mouth tried out a smile, but I didn’t think either of us were convinced. “Okay.”

  I winked at her, needing some humor to burn off the tension I could feel growing between us now that reality had burst our sex bubble. “I’m going to start calling you Honest Abe.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Go ahead and try, Lieutenant.”

  I pulled her into a hug, chuckling around her weak attempts to poke me in the ribs. When she stilled and gave in to the hug, I kissed the top of her head. Her hair was back in that fucking bun, but I knew what it looked like hanging between us as my cock filled her to the brim. Yet another vision burned into my brain.

  Oakley left shortly after, tapping her wrist as she walked out my door. Her message was clear: I had very little time to set things in motion before she went to the sheriff.

  I dumped the rest of my coffee in the sink and headed to get dressed. A run would clear my mind and help me form a plan. As I tied my shoelaces, I felt like my hands were tied too. Coming clean to the sheriff would drastically change our jobs. One of us would have to move departments. Seemed like a pretty drastic move when Oakley didn’t even know my real last name. What if we changed our job situation to be together and then she found out about my past and didn’t want me? I could tell her all the details now, but that might change both our dating and working relationship when we’d literally just begun. I couldn’t see Oakley understanding the choices I’d made before I’d gotten my head screwed on straight. Late night confessions of that magnitude seemed like something you gently brought up after dating for a few months. Once she knew the man I was now was the real deal.

  My shoes beat a path through the forested area skirting the city limits of Auburn Hill before coming around to a clearing with a guardrail and a steep drop to the ocean below. The view was breathtaking, so I stopped and zoned out for a bit, still no closer to deciding on what to do. A loud seagull swooped in and had me jumping back from the railing. Fucker almost clipped the top of my head in search of food.

  A vibration in my pocket had me jumping again, my mind thinking I was under attack by another seagull, which wasn’t unheard of around here.

  “Fucking seagulls…” I muttered, fishing the cell phone out of my pocket . “Oh, great.”

  It was my mother texting me.

  Mom: It’s been three hundred seventy-seven days since I’ve seen your handsome face. I’m starting to take it personally.

  Wyatt: Mom. I’ve been settling into my new place and the new job. It’s not personal.

  Mom: So you say. Sure would heal a mother’s heart to get a visit from her only son.

  I gripped the phone tighter and blew out a deep breath. Yeah, she was right. I’d been a shit son, but I’d had my reasons. Didn’t help the guilt that bloomed in my chest, though.

  Wyatt: I promise to visit very soon.

  Mom: I’ll hold you to that. How about next weekend?

  I rolled my eyes. Damn, that woman was a natural-born saleswoman. Always trying to close somebody.

  Wyatt: I’ll check my work schedule and get back to you. Love you, Mom.

  I put the phone away and started running back to my house, letting the burn in my legs and lungs distract me from the guilt of not visiting. Despite the increased pace that should have taken all my focus, just one thought kept pummeling me: did Oakley and I have what it took to make it long term? And if so, what was I willing to give up to get the girl?

  15

  Oakley

  * * *

  All week I’d suffered from what I could have sworn was a split personality. That had to explain why I’d go from dreamy teenager one second to having a full-blown panic attack the next. I’d worked alongside Wyatt, keeping things professional, even if I found him studying me when he thought I wouldn’t notice. The devil in me was enjoying having a streak of bad girl buried deep in an otherwise sterling reputation.

  I placed the mobile fingerprinting unit on the desk of the maintenance man who’d worked for this department longer than I’d been alive. Poor guy was given a tiny corner space with a blinking fluorescent light, but he didn’t seem to mind. We kept a mobile unit in the car at all times for quick-checking car accident victims, but when I tested it this morning before heading out, it wasn’t working properly. The damn thing was always on the fritz, which was why I checked it almost daily.

  “Hey.”

  My stomach dropped to my toes and my knees went weak. I would know that whispered voice anywhere. Wyatt stood directly behind me, his eyes hooded when I glanced over my shoulder. He came closer, the heat of him scandalous considering we were out in the open. Okay, sure, we were off in a dark corner while the department was empty, but anyone coming in or out of the main office would see us.

  I didn’t dare turn around yet, just focused on the unit I’d placed on the desk. I had to clear my voice before I could get words out.

  “Wyatt…” I warned.

  His hand came up, his finger tracing the line of skin on my neck showing above the collar of my uniform. I shivered, the caress just the tip of the iceberg of how I wanted him to touch me. But not here. Not now.

  “You have the softest skin,” he murmured, his finger finding the shell of one ear. “The cutest ears.”

  I silently demanded my knees to quit shaking. I’d faced down hardened criminals with more strength than this. “I’m not cute.”

  He huffed out a breath I felt more than heard. “Tell that to your ears.” He flicked my earlobe before tracing back to the other side to pay equal attention to my other ear.

  I closed my eyes for a moment and relished the feeling of a man finding me so attractive that even my ears turned him on. Knowing I could have stayed there forever, letting him touch me and croon in my ear with that gravelly voice, knowing we could be interrupted any second…well, it scared me. It scared me to think I’d risk my job for a simple caress that didn’t belong in the workplace.

  My brain cleared, my knees straightened, and I spun around, sidestepping away from Wyatt. “Don’t, Wyatt,” I said firmly.

  He held his hands up, looking hotter in his uniform than any cop had a right to. “Sorry ’bout that. I seem to lose my head around you.”

  I was about to accept the sincere and sweet apology when he ruined it with a joke.

  “Both heads, actual
ly.”

  I rolled my eyes and walked away, calling over my shoulder, “Good night, Wyatt.”

  He ran after me, catching up and walking out to the parking lot with me. “I was going to see if you wanted to join me for dinner at my place. I’m trying out chicken cacciatore tonight.”

  My brain skidded to a stop like a record screech. “You cook?”

  Wyatt crossed his arms across his broad chest and scraped a hand over his five o’clock shadow. “Hell yes, I cook, woman.” He leaned in and dropped his voice. “If you’d stayed longer the other day, I would have made you breakfast and you’d know that.”

  I inhaled away the mental image of him fisting himself in the shower right before he’d turned me around and made me “spread ’em” like a damn criminal against the tiled wall. My nostrils flared, and I scrambled to think of something else. Was it getting steamy out here?

  “Yeah, sorry. I have family dinner at my parents’ tonight.” I turned tail and nearly ran to my motorcycle, welcoming the cool air on my cheeks and needing to get away from Wyatt while I could still control myself.

  “Have a good night, Captain,” he called with his beefy arms crossed over his chest, watching me hurry away with a smug smile on his face.

  “Ugh!” I yelled into the wind as soon as I got down the road from the station. “Stupid men and their stupid hot bodies.”

  I didn’t even have time to go home and change. Mom, a seasoned cop’s wife, wouldn’t mind. My sisters would give me shit though, but I could handle them. Hell, I could handle most anyone, except for Wyatt. It was like now that I’d seen him naked and knew what he could do to my body, I’d turned into a sex-starved female willing to beg for more, not caring that my job could be on the line.

  Dad was just getting out of his department police car in the driveway when I pulled up to the curb outside their house. He eyed my Grom like he always did, telegraphing his disapproval through a mere expression. It certainly worked, but not enough for me to sell it and get a car like everyone else. Until Wyatt, my little motorcycle had been my only walk on the wild side. Naively, I thought it would be just the right amount of danger for me to live the rest of my life by the strict rules I’d grown up with and adopted into my own life as an adult. Apparently the bad girl inside of me was stronger than I thought.